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She glances around, noticing the spectators. “Following me now?”
I shrug. “Keeps things interesting.”
“As if you’re boring.”
“Careful with the compliments or I’ll be under the table having you for breakfast. I’m all too eager to bury my face between your thighs again.” Deflection is my finest defense mechanism, and she knows it.
That doesn’t stop her cheeks from turning a hypnotic shade of red. “What’re you doing here, Jake?”
“I thought we were routinely dropping in on one another unannounced. It’s my turn based on that logic.”
Her expression is wary, and rightfully so. “Where have you been since last Thursday? I didn’t even see you bring Syd to the studio for her classes.”
Which was dumb luck that I greatly appreciated.
“Did you miss me? That’s cute.” I tack on a cocky smirk to disguise what her remark does to me.
Harper frowns. “Cut the crap. Why are you here?”
“Thought I’d see what all the fuss is about.” My eyes do a purposeful sweep of the trendy establishment.
“At my table,” she grinds out.
“Making polite conversation.”
“Since when? You’re not polite about anything.”
“Maybe I’m trying to make a change.”
“I’m not sure how that involves me. We don’t do… this. Whatever this is.”
“Exchange pleasantries? Banter about the weather? Engage in civil chit-chat? Be social in general?” The options are laughable, but I manage to keep a straight face.
Meanwhile, her lips press into a flat line. “You made it quite clear that we don’t need to talk.”
“Still salty about that, huh?”
She huffs. “Nah, a cold shoulder brush-off was the cherry on top of that cliterizing performance.”
“Cliterizing performance,” I repeat. “Wow, that sounds like another compliment. Should I eat you now or later? I could be easily swayed to do both.”
Her glare is a valid reprimand. “You discarded me like I’m a disposable toy. Excuse me if I’m not eager for another round.”
“Pitch—”
“Don’t.” Harper averts her gaze to the coffee mug in front of her. “Does treating me like shit turn you on?”
My gut clenches at her somber tone. It serves to remind me of my actual purpose for this not-so-casual visit. Call me a hypocrite, but I’m suddenly in favor of beating around the bush. “I’m an asshole. We know this.”
She cocks her head to the side while sipping from her drink. “Not sure I’ve heard you admit it.”
“Funny you should mention that,” I mutter. Wounded pride is a thick exhale that slumps my posture. “I actually came to… apologize.”
Coffee sputters from her lips. It’s impressive that her shirt remains dry. “Um, what was that?”
I scrub over my mouth to smother a grin. “You heard me.”
Harper dabs at the splatter with a napkin. I want to make an entirely different mess with her, which is how I got myself into this one. Her gaze lifts to mine as if hearing my filthy musings.
